Weekly Short Stories Contest and Company! discussion

note: This topic has been closed to new comments.
Weekly Short Story Contests > Week 71- (March 2nd-9th) Stories --- Topic: Mourning Lost Love DONE!

Comments Showing 1-16 of 16 (16 new)    post a comment »
dateDown arrow    newest »

message 1: by Mark (new)

Mark Thanks.

message 2: by Rachael (new)

Rachael (rayle504) | 107 comments great topic!!

message 3: by [deleted user] (new)

I like this topic, although I'm having a tough time finding something other than the obvious to write about :P

message 4: by Paul (new)

Paul | 61 comments THE BEST OF FRIENDS
The day my life changed started like any other. White fluffy clouds floated though an azure crystal clear sky. Already at eight in the morning the temperature was in the high eighties. In the distance rapid gunfire punctuated the air like an early morning alarm call.
But me and my best mate Charlie, we had heard it all before. In fact the gunfire was a distraction now, an annoyance to the job in hand. Charlie always had a cooked breakfast every day, even in the heat of this acrid desert. I love the smell of sausage sizzling and spitting in the pan. Even better is the aroma of crispy bacon smoking. With two eggs, beans and fried bread, and at least two cups of coffee my best friend was ready to face the day.
Me, well I had any scraps that were thrown my way, and a constant flow of fresh water was my diet of happiness.
‘We’re going into a tough neighbourhood today, son,’ he said to me.
I merely nodded like I always do when there are no words to say.
‘But hey, we’re more than a match for them eh?’ he said, ruffling my neck.
If the other members of the squad hadn’t been there I could have given him a lovely kiss. But he had his macho image to stand up to, and I loved him all the way for it.

In the harsh heat of the morning sun I found the first package. Apparently I have a gift for sniffing these things out. It was buried and hidden under some hastily concealed rubble. To the untrained eye it was an accident waiting to happen. One foot in the wrong place and ka-boom, that foot would never be playing football again. Apparently we were the best team at this; me crawling on all fours into the most dangerous places and Charlie defusing the situation like only he can.
But today was going to be different. We were going into the rebel’s stronghold, or at least that’s what I overheard between the platoons. It didn’t matter as long as I was with Charlie, because Charlie loved me and you can’t destroy love can you?
The area were found ourselves in was like some kind of shanty town of sandstone and dust. Every other wall was falling down, its façade riddled with bullet holes and dried blood. Dozens of little black windows looked back at us, every one a possible hiding place of the exclusive sniper. We fanned out, our well oiled guns ready to unleash a cascade of unforgiving lead at the smallest movement.
Harvey was the first to go down as a bullet hit him in the temple.
We all hit the dust and tried to crawl for cover as the cry, ‘Sniper!’ echoed through the harsh stifling air.
As two men dragged Harvey’s lifeless body away Charlie covered my body with his as we crawled into the relative safety of a doorway.
‘Can’t take us kiddo, we’re special me and you,’ he said kissing the top of my head.
That was the last thing he said to me before the sniper got lucky and shot my best friend through the heart.
I’ve never knew pain like it as I watched the life drain from his body. Tears welled in my puppy eyes as I licked his face and tried to revive him. As I watched him die I remember all the fun times we’ve had. The times we played ball in the sand, or lay asleep our bodies entwined and twitching in synch. He was my best friend, and I’m sure if he were here today he would say I was his.
Back at camp I lie on his rucksack and pine for his return, my heart breaking for my love in mourning. The others don’t understand ,after all I’m only a dog.

message 5: by Paul (new)

Paul | 61 comments sorry but had to write this after I heard the story of a solider dying and his dog dying of a broken heart in afgan. Sorry it was a bit of rush, as I was ill upto the last minute and wrote this in half an hour. Hope u like it!!

message 6: by Caitlan (new)

Caitlan (lionesserampant) | 2869 comments i like it, its so sad!

message 7: by [deleted user] (new)

Paul, that was amazing! it took me to this last line to figure it out, whch was really good, i love story lines like that. super super sad but amazing nonetheless

message 8: by Caitlan (new)

Caitlan (lionesserampant) | 2869 comments imma gonna post mine tomorrow

message 9: by Shayma (new)

Shayma (almightysush) | 47 comments Doosent look like any ones putting for this one

message 10: by [deleted user] (last edited Mar 09, 2011 07:59AM) (new)

Alex, that was WONDERFUL!
Talented, holy cow. How can you write someone that messed up in the head without coming off as ridiculous? cuz I can't. I really, REALLY like it. :D

I think my favorite line is where hes like, i think it was honeysuckle, maybe lavender, possibly vanilla. I don't know why, but that's my favorite line :)

message 11: by Caitlan (last edited Mar 09, 2011 02:42PM) (new)

Caitlan (lionesserampant) | 2869 comments Title: Memories
Author: Kat

The frigid winter air nipped at my exposed skin as I stood in the dying rays of the setting sun. I kneeled down in the snow, my breath clouding the air around my face. As I placed the arrangement of iris’, roses and daffodils on the grave, memories came flooding back. Memories from when he was still alive.


“Jackson, stop it!” I said, slapping his hands away from my side to prevent him from tickling me. His fingers stopped wiggling and he grabbed my hand with both of his. “Anything for you, sweetie.” He kissed me full on the mouth, and we lay in the sweet grass, breathing in the summer air. I felt his hands in mine, soft, but firm, warm, but cool to the touch. His light blonde hair danced in the light breeze, and his blazing blue eyes seemed to gaze into my very soul.


Tears ran down my face, and I gazed at the name engraved on the head stone, Jackson Lee Montierth, 1989-2009. I wrapped my arms around my waist, the way he used to, and slowly stood up, walking back to my car, the tears blurring every step. I looked back over my shoulder as I drove away; looked back at his grave.


He got down on one knee, right there, in the middle of the restaurant, and pulled a tiny velvet box out of his suit pocket. When I opened it, there was a gold ring with a diamond, my birthstone, in the middle, and two rubies, his birthstone, on either side of it. Happy tears filled my eyes, and I threw my arms around his neck before he could say anything. “Yes!” I whispered softly into his ear. “Yes, I will marry you. I love you.”


I threw my purse onto the couch, and sat down, my shoulders shaking from my sobs. I looked at the mantle, and saw the pictures my mother had took when we had gotten home from the restaurant. His hair was tousled mischievously, his eyes sparkled, and his smile seemed to light up his whole face. I opened the golden locket around my neck. Inside was his favorite picture of us. He was kissing the top of my head, half of his face hidden by my chocolate colored hair. He told me that night that I looked like an angel, sent from Heaven to save him.


“You always look beautiful, love.” He kissed my lips, and escorted me to the car, holding open the passenger door, like a true gentleman. It seemed like he couldn’t take his eyes off of me. At a stop light, he looked over at me, and asked; “Are you excited?” He meant about our wedding, which was a week away. I grinned at him, and kissed him. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he said breathlessly. The cars behind us started to honk, and he reluctantly pulled away. He started to drive, looked to his left, and cursed. He unbuckled so fast I didn’t even see him, and then he threw himself onto me, pushing me down. A millisecond later, the semi slammed into his tiny Corvette, crushing it.


I don’t remember what happened after that, just waking up a week later, on the day we were supposed to be married. I was scared, hooked up to a thousand beeping machines. I gasped when I looked into the mirror across from the hospital bed, and my mother, drying her eyes with a tissue, looked up.


“Darling!” She whispered. “You’re awake!” She gently hugged me, and then her face fell. I immediately knew what had happened, but I refused to face the truth. “Where’s Jackson,” I asked, looking around, desperately hoping he would show up in the room, looking perfectly fine. My mother shook her head. I glanced sharply at her. “What happened!!?” My voice rose an octave, and a nurse peeped her head in, signaling for me to shut up. “There was an accident,” my mother started, then blew her nose into her tissue. “We thought we had lost you. You were in a coma for a week.” I looked at my reflection again. “Mother, where’s Jackson.” She looked away, looked at anything that wasn’t me. “He--he--When the semi hit--he died instantly--I’m sorry sweetie.” She reached for my hand, but I jerked it away. Then, I noticed the date on my watch. It was May 20th. The day in the middle of our two birthday’s. The day we were going to get married.


I visit his grave four times a year; on my birthday, on the day he died, on the day we were set to get married, and on his birthday. I bring him his favorite flowers. And I talk to him. I tell him about our son, who is now almost a half a year old. I tell him that it was a miracle the baby hadn't died in the accident, and how he had saved both of us. But most of all, I tell him all of my favorite memories of him, all the ones I knew he loved. And I remember. I remember him, and I safe-guard my memories.

message 12: by [deleted user] (new)

Nice work, everyone. Nothing from me this week, I've been sick. Hopefully I'm back on for next week.

message 13: by Edward (new)

Edward (edwardtheresejr) | 2434 comments All great stories. I love the unexpected twist at the end of yours, Paul, but it was indeed rushed. Alex ... I'm not going to let myself sleep tonight, thanks to you. Fantastic job, Kat.

message 14: by Edward (new)

Edward (edwardtheresejr) | 2434 comments It means it was creepy. If that is what you were going for, then yes, it is a good thing.

I've creeped myself out whilest writing something. It was an introduction to a fanfiction role play. Everyone truly enjoyed it, I think, because they didn't realize the first half was a dream of the future until he woke up.

message 15: by Edward (new)

Edward (edwardtheresejr) | 2434 comments I'll have to read this Putman.

I haven't written many scenes with him, and they've been scrapped everytime because they don't fall into the narrative well, but there is one character in my story named Edasi Shal who I dearly wanted to kill off because even I hated him. Then I came up with a worse fate for him ...

Chapter three of After Dark is posted ... sort of.

message 16: by Caitlan (last edited Mar 11, 2011 10:21AM) (new)

Caitlan (lionesserampant) | 2869 comments Here's the results :)

1st place: Susan by Al
2nd place: The Best of Friends by Paul
3rd place: Memories by Kat

congratulations everyone!

back to top
This topic has been frozen by the moderator. No new comments can be posted.